


Cafe Strangers

by florelflowers



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: M/M, cue evan running in, honestly they're just adorable boys with crushes, ohm accidently sings out loud while wearing headphones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-11 23:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12946596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florelflowers/pseuds/florelflowers
Summary: A request I got on tumblr: Ohm has headphones on and doesn’t realize he’s singing out loud.Or,  Ohm can’t stop embarrassing himself but Evan isn’t too far behind.





	Cafe Strangers

 

Ryan’s not sure how long he’s been staring at his laptop, or rather, the blank open word document; the constant flashing of the evil black line has hypnotized him in a sort of trance, and all he’s able to do is narrow his eyes at it, wishing it could magically help him come up with motivation to write the essay that’s due by the next day. 

Nothing happens. His brain is a blank mess, the History textbook that sits on the table is still opened on the first page, unread, and to make matters worse, his coffee is now cold. He groans, sagging his head, accepting defeat and the horrible truth that he’s not cut out for college; his procrastination is really starting to become a problem, but the thought of actually doing an assignment on time makes him shiver from the absurdity.

Maybe, his mind helpfully adds, he could drop out and become a street performer. Although, he’s not talented enough to do that, and so he goes back to groaning, mashing his head against the keyboard in the hopes that  _ something  _ will happen.

His lack of writing might be related to the fact that the playlist he’s currently listening to is loud, and the pop songs that play in his ears block out any sort of coherent thought, but he keeps telling himself it’s because they make him want to dance and sing, and so by default he’ll get enough energy to end up writing at least a sentence or two, right?

It’s proven to be a lie, because the songs that have been playing just weren’t the right ones, nothing more than a catchy tune that makes him sing along, or mouth along, in his case. The people in the coffee shop all look at peace in their own little world, and Ryan doesn’t want to be that one guy who ruins it by singing out loud.

With a defeated sigh, he goes to close his laptop, deciding he’s just going to take a zero, and maybe on the way home he’ll stop to get ice cream, to eat his failure away, or maybe even text Anthony so they can binge watch Criminal Minds and be distracted by laughs and incredible hugs.

He  _ was _ going to do that, but before he can even pick his head up, the all too familiar sound of Everytime We Touch is suddenly blessing his ears, and then the missing energy he couldn’t find is  _ there _ and he quickly sits up, already having new found motivation because this is  _ his song,  _ and how can he not be anything other than ecstatic when Cascada is singing to him?

There’s no time to worry about how he still hasn’t read the textbook, or the giggling teenagers in the back who won’t stop staring at him as he bops his head, because he’s finally writing, although mostly rambles, but it’s something, in the very least, and that’s all he could’ve asked for.

It lasts for a while, the new routine of hitting replay every time the song sounds like it’s going to end, and soon he nearly has one page written; he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, as he falls back against his chair, admiring the words that stare back at him.

He looks away when there’s movement in the corner of his eye, and sees an older woman turn in her chair, frowning at him, and what the fuck is her problem? He’s still a little cranky, and the stares he’s getting from multiple people only further fuel that, but before he can ask what they’re all looking at, someone is suddenly there, in front of him, and he looks up, mind instantly going blank once more because holy shit the guy that’s staring at him with these amused eyes is  _ gorgeous. _

“Uh, can I help you?” He’s not the greatest at talking to guys, especially when they look like Aphrodite's son, with biceps that hold all his attention, made more prominent by the tight black shirt he’s wearing.

The man only smiles in this small secretive way, as he pushes up at the also black cap on his head that falls slightly, and Ryan can feel himself let out a shaky breath as he sees the veins pop out against his hand at just the miniscule movement, and he can’t help but imagine how those very same hands would look...somewhere else?

He’s starting to think he was secretly transported into another dimension, because why else would everyone be staring at him, and this godly specimen look as if he himself were trying to hold back a laugh.

Was something on his face? Against his will, he prepares for being made fun of, for something he still hasn’t grasped.

“I hate to interrupt you, and the intense staring contest you’re having with your laptop, but, I figured I should tell you, because no one else seems to want to, that you’ve been singing out loud for the past thirty minutes.”

“Oh,” He breathes, not expecting  _ that,  _ but at the still smiling eyes, his brain finally processes what was just said, and then suddenly the giggling teenagers and angry woman all make sense, and so a few seconds later, he not so gracefully adds, “Fuck.”

Any embarrassment he’s feeling is multiplied by ten, because the realization that this breathtaking man _heard him_ makes him wish for some higher being to teleport his ass out of this terrible situation, and that in itself outweighs everything else.

“If it helps,” The guy shrugs, offering a crooked smile that makes Ryan’s heart sure feel as if it were ready to beat out of his chest, “You weren’t bad, although I wouldn’t recommend trying out for any singing shows anytime soon.”

He buries his head in his hands, beyond the point of wanting this whole nightmare to end, “Fuck off.”

And then because he remembers he actually just met this guy, and he doesn’t know that Ryan can be a bit snarky, he pops his head up, quickly backtracking, “I didn’t mean it in an asshole sense, I was just joking, I don’t really want you to fuck off. Well, unless  _ you  _ do, in which case nevermind, I was just-” He sighs, giving an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, I’m horrible at talking to people.”

The breathy laugh he gets in return almost makes him forget he’s the physical embodiment of embarrassment, almost, because it’s hard when he’s constantly being reminded.

“It’s okay, I happen to be terrible at having normal conversations too.” He finally sits down on the seat across from his, not caring about the mess of Ryan’s things that litter the table, and Ryan himself doesn’t really pay attention to that, because he’s too busy focusing on his reply, which sounded a lot like something he’d say.

“Are you...being sarcastic?”

He’s a little in awe, as the guy takes a sip of his coffee, smile still prominent behind the glass cup, “Always.”

Ryan fakes being hurt, as he flings a hand to his chest, and gives a scandalous look, “How could you? I just embarrassed myself to the highest degree possible, and you give me sarcasm? What a jerk.”

“You did fuck up pretty bad,  _ but, _ ” He says pointedly, raising his eyebrows, “Have you fallen and face planted in front of hundreds of people?”

His mind immediately flashes back to that one day at the beach, where his shoe got stuck in the sand and the fall was instant; the laughs from both Anthony and Craig still ring in his ears, “Not hundreds, but definitely enough to leave a painful memory. Why, you got something better?”

The guy shakes his head, huffing, “Way better. Senior year, graduation day, everyone’s having a good time, families are cheering for those they know graduating, when finally my name is called, Evan, and I walk up all confident, holding back tears myself, but for  _ some reason  _ my feet decide to trip over nothing and I fall, hit my face, and boom, the whole stadium gets silent, except for a few laughs from classmates.”

He snorts, hiding his smile, ignoring the fact that the other slipped their name in there, “You’re bullshitting. There’s no way that actually happened outside of some cheesy movie.”

Evan’s smile is wide, as he playfully kicks at Ryan under the table, “I swear! My mom videotaped the whole thing, it’s become a family tradition to watch it every Christmas.”

This whole thing feels a bit ridiculous, but Ryan can’t deny his enjoyment, and the smile that has yet to leave his face because he knows the other is feeling the same.  

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the textbook he’ll most likely never read, and leans his head against his head, thoroughly captivated by this stranger who seemed to appear at the perfect time, “You know, you really are a jerk.”

Evan gets this tiny smirk, as he tilts his head slightly, eyes never leaving Ryan’s, “And why is that?”

“I just embarrassed myself so much that I’m sure people are going to go home and tell their family members about me, but instead of getting comforted, you come over here, poke at my inability to speak properly to people, and then you  _ one up me _ with a better and more embarrassing story. See? A jerk.”

All of this still doesn’t feel quite real, and his mind keeps screaming at him that things like this just don’t happen randomly, but when Evan has to squeeze his eyes shut from the laugh that overtakes him, he also admits that maybe encounters only thought to happen in movies or books, came from a real life experience.

“I’m sorry,” Evan says, the laugh on his lips still airy and heavenly, “I actually came over to tell you about the singing, but also because I happen to always see you here, and I thought this would be the time that I finally talked to you. But it turns out I’m terrible when it comes to talking to cute guys, so feel free to make fun of me all you want. Swear I won’t outdo you again.”

He’s probably a little too endeared, but that doesn’t stop his heart from faltering at the small confession.

“How about instead I also say that one of the reason’s this is my favorite place to study is because I happen to like staring at you too.” Too late he realizes what he’s said, and he groans, facepalming, “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I swear I’m not creepy, I was just-nevermind, forget I said anything.”

Evan looks in disbelief, as he laughs, “Holy shit, you don’t even have to try to outdo me, it just comes naturally.”

He flicks him off, grinning when Evan just raises his hands in surrender, “I get it, I’m the worst, but that doesn’t mean you beat a guy when he’s already down. Your jerk side is starting to take over, huh?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, but how about I make it up to you?”

He hums, crossing his arms, “I’m listening.”

“This Friday night, they’ll be a fair opening up downtown. What do you say we go and see who ends up tripping over their feet first?” 

“I’d say that sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard.” He’s a little breathless, because it’s not often that cute guys ask him out, or even seem interested, at that.

“Also,” He continues on, “I’m just now realizing that you don’t know my name because of my horrible people skills, but it’s Ryan.”

“I already knew your name.”

At the confused stare from him, Evan smiles, and points at the cup of cold coffee that was meant to be to go, before Ryan had chosen to stay, possibly due to a certain someone walking in.

“It’s written on your cup. Although I should tell you, even though I know you’re name, I’m still referring to you as Singing Guy, oh, even better, Embarrassing Guy!”

“You’re the worst.”

“Hm, that is a fitting title.”

Ryan laughs, in awe at how comfortable they are with each other, and the easygoing banter he’s loving more and more, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or this date would’ve been off.”

Evan’s smile is small but captivating, and Ryan can’t help but feel a bit lightheaded, as his foot gets nudged under the table, and as Evan stares at him in a way that closely resembles tenderness.

“I’ll be sure to thank my lucky stars tonight then.”

And because they’re both terrible, Evan adds, “Speaking of stars, have I mentioned that I once threw up in front of a celebrity? Because I have, the one time I visited Los Angeles and was sick from the plane ride.”

Ryan grins, leaning forward, “But have you thrown up  _ on  _ one?”

“No way,” Evan breathes, “Tell me you didn’t.” 

“I did. Fourth grade, on a fieldtrip.”

Evan laughs, shaking his head, “That doesn’t count! You were too young.”

“What do you mean? I still remember it clearly!”

They’re probably not supposed to be telling horrible stories, for people who have just met, but Ryan can’t deny that it’s the best way he’s gotten to know someone, especially given how Evan seems comfortable enough to rest his leg against Ryan’s own, or the way he stares at him admiringly, and so though it’s not ideal for most, Ryan wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing this pairing, sorry if it's terrible! 
> 
> Either way though I hope it was still enjoyable :)


End file.
